when you are old and gray and full of sleep
and nodding by the fire, take down this book,
and slowly read, and dream of the soft look
your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep；

　
how many loved your moments of glad grace,
and loved your beauty with love false or true；
but one man loved the pilgrim[1]soul in you,
and loved the sorrows of your changing face; 

and bending down beside the glowing bars,
murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
and paced upon the mountains overhead,
and hid his face amid a crowd of stars. 

                  当你老了 

当你老了，白发苍苍，睡思昏沉，
在炉火旁打盹，请取下这部诗歌，
慢慢读，回想你过去眼神的柔和
回想它们过去的浓重的阴影；

多少人爱你年轻欢畅的时候
出于假意或真心地爱慕你的美貌，
只有一个人爱你那朝圣者的灵魂，
爱你老去的容颜的痛苦的皱纹。 

躬身在红光闪耀的炉火旁，
凄然地低语，爱为何消逝，
在头顶的山上，它缓缓踱着步子，
将脸隐没在群星之中。